


Home Is Where I'm Alone With You

by Aereona



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Future, Comfort/Angst, Drinking, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Hiking, Kissing, Loneliness, Moving In Together, Post-Canon, Protectiveness, Shadow shows up in a later chapter, Slow Burn, Swearing, Touch-Starved, mention of Laura Moon, mention of Mr. Ibis, mention of Salim and the Jinn, mention of sex but not discribed, soft Sweeney, talking after sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:36:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aereona/pseuds/Aereona
Summary: The war between the old and new gods ended a couple years ago. Having survived the battle; Mad Sweeney decided he wanted to get away from it all. He finds some much-needed peace and tranquillity with you.---Takes place after the book and show. I'm going my own way with things. (Sweeney's history as seen in 2x07 will be incorporated at one point.) May not be canon Sweeney, a lot softer.





	1. WET CONCRETE

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Home" by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHEOF_rcND8

Tossing and turning all night. Waking up to a sore arm after having fallen asleep on it. Bumping your toe and subsequently falling on your ass after losing balance. Spilling the water for your cats all over the floor. Enduring the most dreadful workday—ever. So far, a shitty day where nothing goes the way you want it. _Ugh._

Friday afternoon, counting down the minutes on the clock, only eight more minutes and you can go home. So close to sprawling on your couch and doing absolutely shit-all. Same thing you do every workday. Never-ending cycle. Not that you’re lazy, it’s pure and utter boredom. You’ve been working here for 11 years now. Straight out of college; accepting the first job that would take you. Accountant. Balance sheets and numbers all day—every day. Three more minutes and you can get out of here, to start all over again on Monday. Oh, the drudgery. Staring at the clock should make time move faster, if only.

 _Finally._ The only good thing about this job is that it’s close to home. About ten minutes later you are home, greeted by your cats. First things first, they need their dinner. Filling both their bowls with the smelly meal they’re eager to devour.

You’re ready to take your jeans off and slip in some sweatpants. Netflix time. Then a thought presents itself. Why not shake things up a bit and go to the movies instead? You can grab dinner on the way back. It’s been so long since you treated yourself to a night out. Eos and Nox have food and each other’s company. If you hurry you can make the 6 o’clock one. What’s stopping you?

 _Fuck it_ , you think while grabbing your coat and keys; locking the door behind you.

There aren’t too many people about, must be the chilly weather. Only four more blocks, you continue at a leisurely pace for a while. _Shit_ , you should’ve brought an umbrella. Go back home or continue; you’ll be soaked either way. Might as well continue. As you start speeding up the pace you suddenly feel this massive force bump into you from the side. Before you have time to realize what’s happening, you’ve fallen on the ground. Shoulder-first, smacking on the wet concrete with someone heavy on top of you. After that sharp sting of pain it takes you a few seconds to find your bearings.

The brute who caused this is now sitting on his knees next to you, looking at you as if you’ve caused this. “Can’t you look where you’re fucking walking, eh?” he shouts, pure rage burning in his eyes. Angry, hazel eyes.

“I could say the same to you, asshole. My shoulder hurts like hell.” you shout back while taking a good look at him. His face coated in fresh cuts with bruises on his cheeks and neck. Surely the fall couldn’t have caused that.

Sternly saying “Aye, ye could.” while standing up to his full height. His face changes into a small grin. “Well, my knees fucking hurt as well. So... let’s call it even shall we?”

“Fine.” you agree while trying to get up; foolishly using the arm you’ve injured. He catches your other arm before you can hit the concrete again. Helping you on your feet as if you weigh nothing—which you definitely do not. _Did the rain start pouring even harder? Great._ Only after you utter your thanks, he let’s go of your arm.

“So where are ye of to in such a hurry, lass? Trying to get out of the rain?” he inquires while guiding you under the eaves of the nearest building, providing shelter.

“Going to the movies.” Your aching shoulder is starting to throb to the point where it’s hard to even think. “Actually, scratch that, I’ll just go back home. My shoulder is positively killing me and I won’t make it in time now.” You notice a crack in his face, showing genuine concern. “Speaking of injuries, you do know your face is covered in blood, right?”

“Aye, I know. No worries, the other fella’s a lot worse off than me.”

Stifling a laugh, you proclaim “And he’ll be saying the exact same thing. By the looks of your face, I’d say the other guy is more than likely speaking the truth.“.

“Hah! The cheek on ya!” He’s looking you firmly in the eye, with an amused smirk he moves a step closer towards you. “This fierce rain will last all night by the looks of it. How about you wait it out at my place, eh? It’s right around the corner.”

“Now why would I trust a complete stranger? Who’s covered in cuts and bruises, might I add?”

“Fair point.” For a second, there’s a slight smile in the corner of his mouth. “I’ll tell you what, lass, you could try your luck. Wait in a dry place or stand there for what might be hours and possibly get pneumonia.” Without waiting for an answer, the tall man spins around and saunters into the icy-cold rain. Leaving you to stare at his retreating silhouette.

 

You know he is a complete stranger. You know this could be extremely dangerous. But you do know how to defend yourself should something happen.

_Don’t do it._

Your shoes are drenched. Won’t be long until your clothing will be soaked through and through. A dry place does sound nice.

_Don’t do it._

You should know better. Yet there was something... something in those eyes that made you feel secure.

Trying your luck it is.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact is that I’ve actually never written a story down... I just wanted to pen down some thoughts, if that makes sense? I'll try to update weekly.
> 
> Don't know if the extent of the tags is correct, if you see something that you feel should need to be tagged, please let me know.
> 
> Apologies for grammar/vocabulary errors, English is not my native language. So, thoughts and feedback are extremely welcome and appreciated!
> 
> PS: I don’t want to encourage going home with strangers!! Please be safe out there!


	2. WOOLEN SOCKS

Turning around the corner, while shouting at him to wait up, you are just able to see which house he enters. He doesn’t wait for you. Why is this bothering you? Maybe he can’t hear you through the noise from the rain. Reaching the door a few seconds later, you notice it’s slightly ajar. Entering quickly into the dark hallway, you shut the door and immediately clench your fists, thumbs on the outside. Ready to defend yourself if need be.

A light turns on in what appears to be the second door to your left. Steeling yourself you walk towards it. Before being able to see inside, you hear him chuckling. “And here I was thinking you were seriously considering getting a pneumonia!”

Gathering your wits, you decide to enter.

His tall frame standing in front of the sink. Turning his head to the sides while looking in the mirror. Inspecting the damage. With a smug smile he rinses the remaining blood away. You use this moment to take a quick look for anything you could use if he should attack you. _Toilet brush, maybe?_ When he looks up again, most of the wounds have started to seep again. Letting out a groan, he turns towards you. “Suppose you couldn’t help a fella out, could ya?”

“Uhm, sure...” While taking of your soaking wet coat, you gesture towards his jacket on the bathtub’s edge with a questioning eyebrow. He nods and you place your coat next to his while also placing your purse on the floor. “So, do you have a medicine cabinet or something?”

Standing close to you, he gently takes a hold of your arm, steering you aside so he can grab something inside a cabinet. You must be imagining things because you can still feel the warmth emanating from his touch. Without realizing it, your other hand is already caressing the spot on your arm where he touched you. As he’s about to turn around, you notice what you’re doing and swiftly let you arm fall down. _Please, please, don’t let him have seen that, he’ll think I’m some touch-starved fool—Shit! I totally am, but he doesn’t need to know that!!_

Pushing that inner panic away, you take the medicine kit and rummage through it. “Might want to sit down somewhere, easier for me to reach.” you say softly while taking some items out. Cotton, antiseptic and band-aids should do the trick. Meanwhile, he’s seated on the closed toilet, legs sprawled open. You place the kit on the sink and hand him the band-aids.

You move to stand in front of him, awkwardly between his legs. You dab some antiseptic on the cotton and place the bottle in his hands. With some hesitation you take his bearded chin in your other hand while rapidly inspecting the lacerations. You had assumed his hair was brown, but now that you’re getting a closer look you notice it’s actually ginger; making you wonder how bright it would be when dry. “Doesn’t look like you need stitches, but this is going to sting, a lot.” He shrugs his shoulders as if to say that it’s okay.

There is an incredible sadness surrounding him, it’s almost palpable. As if life has beaten him again and again. Something tells you he isn’t completely beaten down. You hope it never happens, nobody deserves such a thing.

“Ready?” you ask, to which he blows out some air and nods. Normally you would be irked at the lack of verbal communication—instead it makes you feel at ease. You dab the cotton as gently and as rapidly as you can; some must be pretty bad because you can feel him hold his breath a couple of times. You feel a faint blush creep up your cheeks as soon as you notice he doesn’t take his vivid eyes away from yours. It takes all your effort to concentrate on the wounds.

After finishing with the antiseptic, you throw the cotton in the bin behind you. When you turn back, he’s already got a band-aid out, ready for you to use. Proceeding to decorate his face with green band-aids; it’s getting harder to contain your chuckles. It really is quite the sight. “Oh, knock it off will ya, you’re turning me in a damn Christmas tree!” he scoffs while taking a glimpse in the mirror behind you—causing you to snort. “Oh aye, keep snorting like that and I’ll turn you into a feckin’ Christmas tree as well.” he says playfully while putting the items back in his med kit.

It takes a few seconds to regain your composure after realizing you’ve let your guard down. You are still in a stranger’s home, appearing good-hearted as he may be, you never know. There’s still the matter of fact you are still drenched and feeling colder by the minute. “I don’t mean to be a bother but could I use one of your towels to dry my hair?” you ask with your eyes strained on the floor.

“Ah fuck, I forgot, just grab what you need in there, okay?” he says while pointing at a cabinet. “I’ll go see about some dry clothes for you. After all, you did help fix my face.” Before been giving a chance to respond, he’s already out the door.

_Did he just… What did he say, dry clothes?! Oh my god, does he expect me to change in front of him or something?_

Alarm bells are going off in your head. Entering a state of high alert, you remember where the toilet brush is. It looks like it could be hard enough to cause some damage. If he tries anything you will kick him in the balls and grab the brush to strike his head. Emergency plan ready, you take a deep breath and towel dry your hair, making sure your front is constantly facing the door, eyes wide open.

After a couple of minutes he comes back inside, noting he’s changed his clothing and is carrying a bundle of clothes in his arms. “If you want you can change into these, I doubt they’ll fit ya, more like drown you to be honest.” Noticing the fear in your eyes, he slowly places the clothes on the sink and lets out a long sigh. “Ye need not fear me lass, I promise.” He holds up his hands, doing his best to look nonthreatening. “Look, you can lock the door and take yer time about it. I’ll throw yer clothes in the dryer afterwards, if you want.” He looks quite distressed by your fear of him. “Okay?”

You have trouble wrapping your head around the fact that this man, who could probably snap your neck with ease, looked mortified when he noticed how afraid you were. Mortified! Could you have misjudged him? He did take in an absolute stranger, possibly saving you from falling ill. _Maybe i'm overreacting..._

Watching you intently, hands still up and standing as still as a statue, he’s patiently awaiting your answer. When your fear has ebbed away, you gaze up at his face and try to look as kindly as you can. “Yes, I’d welcome some dry clothes, thank you.”

“Grand. I’ll get to starting up the heating then.” While backing out of the room, he gives you a small but warm smile.

After waiting about ten seconds, you close the door, lock it and take a look at the clothes. Dark grey sweatpants, a plain white t-shirt, dark blue hoodie with a zipper and dark blue woolen socks. Not too bad, there aren’t even any holes in them. They seem comfortable, there’s no point in delaying. Piece by piece you remove your soaked shoes and wet clothing; dropping them in a pile on the floor. Thankfully, your underwear is mostly dry.

Standing there in nothing but a bra and panties you can see the bruise already forming on your shoulder. You quickly start putting on the dry clothes, looking like a child trying on their parent’s outfit. _He’s right, they’re way too big._ You tuck the sweatpants in the socks to make sure you don’t slip and fall. While putting on the t-shirt you catch a whiff, the scent making you feel as if you’re walking in a forest on a bright day. You can’t help but wonder if that is how he smells—or does he just have really nice laundry detergent?

Taking on last look in the mirror—perhaps the most disheveled you’ve ever looked—you decide not to give a damn about your appearance. _It is what it is._ You grab the towel you’d used for your hair and wrap the wet clothes inside it.

Unlocking the door, you walk out of the room with the bundle of wet clothes and your purse in your arms, in search of the kind stranger—yet again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Next chapter will span the rest of the evening. Should be up somewhere next week, possibly the weekend.


	3. WHISKEY GLASSES

Entering in to what appears to be the kitchen you catch a glimpse of him staring out the window, seeming lost in his thoughts. Not wanting to disturb him, you lean against the doorframe, taking a moment to look outside as well. You close your eyes to fully listen to the soothing sound of the rain pattering against the window. Failing to remember the last time when you took a moment to appreciate nature, you are startled by the sound of the man clearing his throat. Opening your eyes to him still standing in the same spot, except now he’s looking at you. “Hey, uhm, thanks for the clothes. I brought mine along, if I can still use the dryer… ?”

He seems to be pondering how to answer as he walks steady towards you, maintaining eye contact and halting in front of you. “I’m a man of my word, lass. Take a seat while I chuck them in.” Handing over the bundle to him, he goes to another room while you sit down at the kitchen table. It’s a rather large kitchen with tall windows looking out on what appears to be a field, it’s too dark to be sure. From the table you take a look at the living room, which looks to be filled with potted ferns along the windows. _Weird, but kinda cool I guess._ Thankfully the warmth from the central heating is noticeable by now. As are his footsteps coming back. “So, that’s done. I’m in desperate need of a drink, how about you?” You watch him open a cabinet, taking out a bottle of whiskey with two square, old fashioned whiskey glasses and place them on the table. And of course, that’s when your stomach decides to growl. “Or food it seems, don’t have much right now but take what you need.”

“Actually, I am quite famished, though I don’t want to put you of food.” Rolling his eyes, he opens his refrigerator and gestures with his hands towards it, urging you to take a look. “Okay, let’s see what you have.” The choices are limited to yoghurt, jam and various packages of sliced meat and cheese to put between a sandwich. Seeing the bread next to the fridge, you take out the jar of strawberry jam. “You want a sandwich as well? Paying back your hospitability and all.” You close the refrigerator door, take the bread and turn around; showing him what you’ve chosen.

While taking the seat across from where you sat before, he squints his eyes at the jar. “Fine choice. Sure, I could eat. Knives are to the left of the fridge.” After placing the jar and bread on the table, you turn around to get a knife. “Did I scare you that much, in the bathroom?” he asks, causing you to freeze in your steps. Letting out a sigh, you take a knife and sit back down, not being able to meet his eyes.

While spreading the bread with the delicious smelling strawberry jam, you try to answer him. “For a second I was scared, yeah. Thinking back on it, it’s more the situation, you know?” He pours some whiskey in both the glasses. “I mean, being in a strangers home and knowing you’ll have to take your clothes off—and not in a good way.” That elicits a chuckle from him and he takes a swig from his drink. Finishing four sandwiches, you give him half. “Maybe, it’s just been a long day. Sorry if I offended you.”

Putting his glass down, he refills it while smiling at you. “Nah lass, it’s fine, I get it.” He shoves the other glass towards you. “It seems to me, you’ve got some good common sense on ya.” You take a sip of your drink, feeling the warmth spreading inside you. _Damn, that’s some fine whiskey._ You raise an eyebrow at him. “Nothing like some whiskey to warm yer cold bones. Good, innit?”

“Exquisite actually, thanks.” You put your glass down and you both start simultaneously on your sandwiches. Sometimes the simple things really are the best, a sandwich has never been tastier. Maybe it has something to do with the company. You do try to glance at him every few bites, as any curious person would do, _right?_ In the bright kitchen light, you keep getting drawn to his hair and beard. Now that it’s dry, you find the color to be more beautiful than you could’ve imagined. He finishes his meal before you and refills both your glasses. You make a mental note not to drink too much. Now he’s the one taking glances at you, causing you to feel your cheeks turn flaming hot. _Oh god, why don’t I have control over my bloody face!!_ Keeping your eyes focused on your sandwich, you can feel him chuckle ever so lightly.

He’s removing his band-aids, making you look up in surprise at his nearly-closed wounds. “Are you some kind of wizard? ‘Cause I’ve never seen cuts heal that fast.” Causing him to laugh in a way that feels as if you’re left out of the joke. “Seriously, are you blessed with rapid healing or something? Secret Wolverine, maybe?”

After his laughter has ended, he’s finally able to answer, looking you straight in the eyes. “Must be someone sending some good vibes my way.” The confusion must be all over your face. _Good vibes? Is he talking about me?_ He has this look in his eyes, making it seem as if he’s thinking about saying something clever. “Could be I really am this Wolverine thing or maybe I’m just _very lucky_ , who knows?”

“If you’re that lucky, how come you ended up with a bloodied face, huh?” You are kind of curious about it.

“Ah well, I’ll tell ya, luck works in a lot of strange ways. It’s not always as straightforward as I’d want.” He stares off for a few seconds and then shrugs his shoulders. “Besides, it was just a silly bar fight with some deadbeat harassing the bartenders, don’t really wanna discuss it.” Deciding not to push further on the subject, you take another sip. “Can I ask ye something, lass?” After your soft _yes_ , he asks a question you didn’t expect. “What’s your name?”

Feeling playful—perhaps a little bit merry from drinking—you decide not to tell him. “I’m afraid it’s a secret you’ll have to find some way to unlock.”

“Hmm, in that case I’ll go about looking for some keys. Mine’s Sweeney by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Sweeney.”

“Likewise, lass. I’ll just keep calling ye lass then if ye don’t mind.” You shrug and finish the last bits of your sandwich. He stands up, grabs his glass and starts walking towards his living room. You move to grab the jar and knif- “Don’t need to clean up, I’ll do it tomorrow.” Not knowing what to do now, you just stand there and hold your drink, fingers tapping the glass lightly. “You said you were going to see a movie, right?” he asks you while walking over to a cupboard. “I’ve got some old DVDs laying about, if yer interested.”

You stammer. “I, uhm, I…” Taking a quick look outside you see it’s still really coming down out there; you aren’t going anywhere, anytime soon. “As the gracious host you have to choose, of course. Surprise me.” Taking the bottle with you, you go take a seat in the—very comfy—couch and place the bottle on the table in front of it.

Laughter erupts from him as he’s looking trough a stack. “Oh, you’re gonna regret letting me pick.” Sweeney turns around and gives you a devious grin. Holding a DVD behind his back, he walks towards his TV and inserts the DVD somewhere out of your sight. “How’s your Spanish?” he asks while taking a seat next to you, leaving barely any space between.

He hands you the casing of ‘El Laberinto del Fauno’. “Joke’s on you tho, I actually like this one. I do admit I used to have nightmares about The Pale Man.”

You place the case on the table while he scoffs. “Balls! I was sure you wouldn’t have seen it. Pffftttt, want another one?”

Giving him a wide smile, you hand him his drink. “Of course not, it’s an excellent choice.’’ Raising your glass towards him, he presses play.

As the evening slowly turns into night, there’s an ease spreading through you; just two strangers, watching a movie together. When the dryer beeps, he goes to collect your clothes and places them on the kitchen counter before resuming his seat next to you. At some point near the end of the movie, your eyelids keep falling down. The tiredness spreading through your entire body. Fighting to stay awake, your head nods frequently. You barely register him telling you to lay down and handing you a blanket. With your last seconds awake you mumble “G’night Sweeney.” before the darkness consumes you.

 

* * *

 

You wake up, needing to pee so bad, you barely make it in time after closing and locking the door. During what may be the longest piss ever, you see your shoes and coat still in the same place. They’re a bit damp but it’s not that bad. When you finally finish, you face a dilemma. Flush and possibly wake him up or don’t flush and leave him to find your pee. _Yeah, that’s a no-brainer_. With care you flush the toilet and hope that if he wakes up, he falls right back to sleep. Picking up your shoes and coat, you leave the bathroom. As you walk in the hallway you can hear him mumble in his sleep. There’s this irresistible pull to listen at his slightly open door. A most heartbreaking thing to hear, almost as painful as your mother’s wails when your sister died. “-ead wife... please don’t d-… -aura!” Maybe this is the source of the sadness surrounding him.

Either way, it isn’t your business. As much as you want to reacht out tohim, he probably wouldn’t want you invading his privacy like this. Silently retreating to the living room, you can see a small glimmer of light starting to form in the distance. It’s no longer raining and dawn is almost here. _Eos! Oh no!_ Burdened with cats who howl as if they’re being slaughtered when they don’t get their food at exactly the same time—you do love Eos and Nox very much, but they can be a menace sometimes—it’s probably a wise decision to leave right now to make it in time. Taking a quick glance towards the hallway you decide it’s safe to change back to your own clothes, in the middle of the living room. The bruise on your shoulder is very prominent by now, that’s going to hurt for a while. You fold the clothes he gave you into a neat pile on the table. Apparently he must’ve taken away the bottle and glasses after you fell asleep, you can see them on the kitchen table.

Deciding not to leave completely like a thief in the night, you want to write a note. You take out a piece of paper and pen from your purse and write a short ‘Thank you, Sweeney!’ down. After refusing to give him your name earlier, you’re feeling quite whimsical and also write “secret: unlocked” followed by your name at the bottom. Placing the note on top of the pile, you look at it with softness in your eyes.

As scared as you were in the beginning, you’re actually glad you followed him home. Turning around and heading out the door, you walk with a light spring in your step into the rising dawn.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this! I never expected this to get more than 10 hits, wow. 
> 
> Next chapter will contain a little timejump and some background on You.


	4. WILLOW TREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a description of a crime involving murder and its aftermath. It’s all in italic, so you can avoid it if you want.

Four months have passed.  
Four long months of the same old routine.  
Four months of trying to ignore feeling lonely.  
Four months of not thinking about that stranger, Sweeney, at all.

_Yeah right._

So what if you “use” him for daydreaming from time to time? Daydreaming is the best way to get through tedious days. He doesn’t know and there’s no harm done; it’s only for plain day-to-day fantasies. It’s more about craving intimacy. If only someone to talk to. Nowadays you only converse with retail workers, making an extra effort to be as genuinely nice as you can. They get enough crap from everyone else.

You should probably find some friends, the loneliness can be too much sometimes. Those times when you cry so hard in the shower, you’re scared you might never stop until the numbness sets in. The pain may have lessened but you miss her so much.

Your best friend, your confidant… your sister. Elizabeth. Liz.

* * *

 

_Liz, one year younger than you, died four years ago._

_You wanted to surprise her with her favorite, lemon pie. So you went to her apartment, just in time for lunch. The door was open. You found her in the bathroom, naked, staring up at the ceiling. Covered in bruises; hand-shaped bruises around her neck. Couldn’t find a pulse, you tried and tried again. Called the ambulance and tried CPR. Your arms were burning from the effort, you didn’t care. When they arrived and took over, they wouldn’t let you near her. You saw the looks they shared. There’s nothing they could do. She’s really dead._

_Liz is dead._

_You just sat there on the floor in the hall. The police came and asked you questions but you didn’t know how to talk anymore. Stared at your hands as if they’d failed you. Failed her. They must have called your mother at some point. Hadn’t even noticed her coming in, till you heard this piercing cry that shook you to your core. You ran towards your mom and held her while she continued to wail for what felt like days._

_A day before the funeral, the cops told you it was a classic case of a robbery gone wrong. She must’ve been in the shower when he broke in. She must’ve heard him or he heard her. He choked her. She fought, it wasn’t enough. They said she was just unlucky to be at home when the robber came. Classic case?! Unlucky?! You wanted to ram your face straight through the wall. They found the murderer through his DNA and locked him away. He gets to live._

_A piece of you died with Liz in that bathroom. Your mom moved away to the other side of the country, she couldn’t live close to the place where one of her kids died. She can’t look at you without seeing Liz. You haven’t spoken to her in two years, the pain in her voice is unbearable. You stopped answering your friends phone calls. You don’t even try to interact with your coworkers. You can’t be bothered to let people in anymore._

_Your life went on, just without people close to you now. Easier that way._

_Can’t lose ‘m if they were never there in the first place, right?_

* * *

 

On your way home from the shops you see a man in the distance, pissing on a tree. As you get closer, you start to notice some familiar things. Tall with broad shoulders, jeans jacket and that gorgeous ginger hair. _Can’t be, can it?_ He’s still urinating as you’re almost standing behind him. You can feel a smile forming on your lips. “Did the tree piss you off so much, for you to drown it like that, Sweeney?”

“Well, I’ll be damned!” He shouts up at the sky. “And ye wouldn’t wanna know what it did, lass.” Finally finished, you hear his zipper close before he turns to face you. “Or can I call you by your name now?”

“I see you found my note then.” While he nods, you consider it for a few seconds. “Hmm, to be fair, I actually like ‘lass’.”

“Alright then, _lass_. Tell me, how’s that shoulder of yours?” he asks while looking at you from top to bottom, then settling on your eyes.

He remembered. Truthfully, it only hurt for a couple of days. The bruise lasted a lot longer. Lifting the bag you’re carrying on your previously injured arm, you give him a wink. “All healed!” As he was totally checking you out; it’s only fair you do the same. Muddy shoes, clothes look clean, _fuck I forgot how tall he actually is_ , fiery red hair… There are no scars on his face, that seems to have healed well. “Nice to see my nursing didn’t leave you scarred.”

“Good to hear and I thank you for your fantastic nursing.” Detecting no hint of sarcasm, you look at your feet and smile. “You going through the park then, eh? Mind if I tag along?” Being in a delightful mood at meeting Sweeney again, you nod, careful not to look too enthusiastic.

The walk continues in silence—not uncomfortable but pleasant. You look at your side of the path, enjoying the soft breeze on your face. He slows his pace to match yours. Every once in a while you catch him looking your way with pure concentration written on his face. He seems to be brooding on something. _Wait._ He’ll say whatever it is he needs to say, when he’s ready.

When you near a picnic table next to a huge willow tree, he stops and gestures towards it. _Here it comes._ You sit across from him and wait. After releasing a long sigh, Sweeney shares what’s on his mind. “You were talking in your sleep, you know.” How ironic; you both listened to each other mumble in their sleep. “Kept repeating the same name over and over again.”

In your gut, you know there’s only one option. It’s what you kept saying, almost chanting alongside the chest compressions during CPR. _Come on,_ _Liz. Please, Liz. Liz!_ From time to time, you relive it in your dreams. “Liz.” You can’t remember dreaming about her that night, though.

“Aye.” He nods thoughtfully. “I didn’t wanna wake you so I stayed till you stopped calling after her. It sounded like you were in pain?”

Thinking back to how after it happened, you shut everyone out. Maybe it’s time to finally talk to someone, someone you trust. The realization that you trust him, doesn’t hit you as hard as you’d expect. Taking a deep breath you tell him everything without holding back your tears. How close you two were since childhood to the point that some people confused you for twins. How she was the fierce one, standing up to bullies for kids she had never even met. How her life ended abruptly and how you tried to save her already dead body. The entire time he sits there, listening intently, while resting his head in his hands. He doesn’t interrupt nor laugh at your tears. He just lets you be.

When you finish, he gets up and takes the seat next to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Come here, lass.” Without hesitation you gladly accept the hug and rest your head on his chest. “You’ve been through a lot, I’m sorry.” Hugging him feels like it could cure any ail. After sitting like that for a while, processing everything, you can feel him place a gentle kiss on your hair. Even though you’ve only known him for what could be measured in hours, everything just _feels_ right. “Was that why you were so afraid in the bathroom?”

Your tears have stopped by now and not wanting to break apart the hug, you look up at him. “It was more subconsciously, I think. I was actually ready to kick you in the balls and make a run for it.” You see his left eyebrow go up, as if he would’ve liked to have seen that. “It was probably the reason why I dreamed about her that night, though I can’t remember that. You know, I wasn’t the only one talking in my sleep that night. I only caught something that sounded like Laura or Maura?” Seeing the pain in his eyes, you feel he doesn’t want to talk about it. You take a hold of his calloused hand. “Look, Sweeney, it’s okay, you don’t ever have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Feeling relief wash over him, he gently squeezes your hand and places his chin back on your head.

After sitting in that position for a couple of minutes, Sweeney breaks the silence. “What’s the bastard’s name?”

You look up to see the rage burning in his eyes, immediately realizing why he would need to know the name. “I don’t want to ever say his name, he deserves to be forgotten. Besides, it doesn’t matter anymore, he’ll be rotting in prison for the rest of his fucking life.”

He nods with an understanding lining his face. “If you ever want to, just ask and he’ll be gone.”

“You’d do that for someone you’ve just met? Not that I want you to.”

He doesn’t even take time to contemplate it. “Aye, I would.” Not wanting to break the eye contact; you whisper a tiny _thank you_. His reassuring smile makes you feel warm inside. “So lass, do you need help carrying those bags or what? My ass is starting to fall right asleep.” Reluctantly you pry yourself loose from him and hand him one of the bags. Sauntering side by side, each a bag in hand, you aren’t the least bit worried about him coming home with you. Of course you’ll invite him inside, it’s your turn to be hospitable after all.

You can’t quite put your finger on _how_ you know it, but something tells you that Sweeney’s in your life now—hopefully to stay.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got a lot darker, I'm sorry! 
> 
> Next chapter we'll see how Sweeney reacts to cats and there will be an interesting call in the middle of the night.


	5. WILMA'S PUB

Opening your locked door, you motion for him to come inside. Quickly closing the door behind you, there’s the sound of two incoming cats—meowing as if you’ve been gone for seven years. _Shit, what if he’s allergic?_ Too late, they’re already surrounding him, sniffing his legs and giving him little head bumps. They like him. They don’t like anybody. They used to hiss at your mom. And he’s just standing there, frozen. “Uhm, are you okay? I can lock them in a room if you’re allergic or something.” Worry resonates in your voice. “Sweeney?”

Snapping out of his frozen state, he turns to look at you. “I… I’m fine. It’s just, cats normally hate me.”

You walk a step closer to him and take the bag out of his hands. “Well, they love you by the looks of it. You can pet them if you want.” Turning your back on him, you know there’ll be no trouble. You place your groceries on the kitchen table and look smilingly on at this huge man sitting on the ground with cats twirling around him; trying to grab his attention. “The grey one’s called Eos and the black one’s Nox.” You didn’t expect there to be such a sweet side to him. Deciding to leave him to enjoy the moment, you unload the bags.

You’re nearly finished putting all the stuff away and suddenly he’s standing next to you with Eos in his arms. “This one of those Forest cats right?”

“Yep, she’s a Norwegian Forest cat.”

“I might steal this one, just a heads up.”

“Awh come on man, then I’ll be forced to hunt you down and kill you, wouldn’t want that, right?” The wink you give him, makes him laugh. Nox, ever terrified of being left out, meows at your feet. Picking her up, you give her a big smooch on her white ears. She used to be a mangy stray you took home and nursed back to health. “I need to feed them soon or their oh so lovely meows turn to cries that will destroy your eardrums.” Letting Nox down gently, Sweeney does the same with Eos.

You take out their food and put it in their bowls. “Oh for fuck’s sake, that smells disgusting.” He scrunches his nose in disgust while taking a few steps back. “Fucking rancid.”

Holding back laughter, it takes a few seconds to regain your composure. “Don’t worry, won’t be long till the stink’s gone at the rate they eat. We should leave them to it.” You walk past him towards your living room. Hearing his footsteps trailing after you makes your heart flutter. Nervous like a stupid schoolgirl. Nervous—not afraid, at all.

You sit down on the couch as Sweeney takes his place next to you, turning towards each other. “So, this is quite the déjà-vu, isn’t it? Minus those two back there of course, great names you got them.”

“At least we aren’t soaking wet this time, that’s a nice change. And those two seemed quite smitten with you, actually.” Smiling to himself, he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. You’re pretty sure he’s smitten with them, too. You watch him look around; glad you cleaned up yesterday. You decide to take a risk with your next question. “You know, if y— if you want you can always come visit them? I mean, they don’t normally like other people so… I think they’d like it? Not that you have to if you don’t want, I’m sure they’ll be fine either way.” Rambling like an idiot, you can see it written on his face; he knows what you mean— _you_ are the one who’d like it if he visited again.

He doesn’t answer right away and instead watches your embarrassed face turn red. _Damnit!_ If only your damn cheeks would cooperate. And of course he sits there with a smug look on his face. “Aye, I’ll come visit ya.” You do your best to stare at your hands, looking at him again would be too much right now. “And your cats, of course. Seeing as they’re the ones that want me to.” He’s really rubbing it in, as if it isn’t embarrassing enough yet. “Do you think they’d want to go out for a drink sometimes as well? Or would that be just the two of us, then?”

 _Is this really happening?_ You stop fidgeting with your hands and look up at his smug face. “Knowing their schedule by heart, I’m fairly sure they’ll be too busy napping or grooming. Just the two of us it seems, yeah.”

“Grand. And you can stop blushing now, if you want.”

“Fuck you! As if I can control it!” you try to look menacing, his face tells you it isn’t working.

“Ooh, fucking as well, lass? Fine by me, where do ya want me?” he says while moving his fingers towards his belt.

“Oh god, you’re such a dick! I’m embarrassed enough as is, having to ask someone to be my friend.” You shout playfully while throwing one of the pillows towards his face. Of course he catches the pillow before it reaches his head. “Ah shit, I was really hoping that’d hit the mark.”

“Ah well, you win some you lose some.” Feeling the energy simmer down a bit, you let out a sigh. “I’ll have to stop teasing you now before your head explodes, I swear I could almost see steam coming out of your ears.” The only reaction you can think of is to roll your eyes with great exaggeration while he hands you the pillow back. “So, friends huh? Must be my lucky day, I was convinced I’d never see you again after you snuck out like that.” _Friends._ It feels so good to even think about the word friends. Lucky day, indeed.

“To be fair, I had to be back in time to feed my hungry gremlins.” As if on cue, Nox and Eos run towards the windows and settle in front of them. Napping time. “Speaking of being hungry, you wanna stay for dinner? I can order some pizza.”

“As much as I would like to stay, unfortunately I’ve agreed to catching up with some fella tonight; wish I could get out of it but I promised him.” Giving you a warm smile, you smile back at him.

Feeling slightly unhappy about Sweeney leaving so early, you answer in the most casual tone you can manage. “No problem, we can get pizza next time.”

“Deal.” He’s already getting up from the couch and walking towards the door. Following after him, you open the door for him. “Seeing as we’re friends now, I should probably get your number then, eh?”

Quickly exchanging numbers, you’re quite surprised he has a relatively new phone. You were sure he would have one of those old Nokias. Those brick ones you could throw from a building and they’d still work. “See you around then, Sweeney.”

“See ya.”

Closing the door, you take a deep breath. A distinct mixture of sadness and happiness kicks in. Sad at him leaving so soon; you do enjoy his company. Happy at the fact that he agreed to be your friend; though embarrassed at how you asked. Letting out your breath, you can’t help but smile and lay a hand over your heart. It’s like you can actually feel some part of you start to heal again. Walking around your house with a smile gracing your face, you might as well order that pizza you were talking about. And while you’re at it, you send him a text.

 

> _thanks for today_

> _anytime_

* * *

 

Sleeping uneasy, you wake up to your ringtone going off at goddamn four in the morning. When you see it’s Sweeney calling, you immediately pick up. You haven’t seen nor spoken to him in three days. “Hey, is everything ok?”

Surprisingly, you hear a woman’s voice answering. “Hello there doll, oh I’m fine, I thank ye. Listen, you’re in this red-headed giant’s contacts and the only one to answer. I’d thank you to get over here and pick his drunken ass up. I’d like to get some sleep.” Flabbergasted, you ask what happened. “Same thing they all do, sweetie, they get drunk and some have the audacity to fall asleep on my bar. You know Wilma’s pub? Yeah, on the corner of King Street. Great! Get over here, now.”

Groaning out loud, you push the covers away. Seeing as it’s a few towns over, it should be about thirty minutes till you get there. You don’t want to keep the woman waiting too long, she sounded so tired. Going in your floral-patterned pajama pants with a green t-shirt it is, she doesn’t know you anyway. You put on some shoes, grab the car keys and are on your way in about three minutes since the call ended. Concentrating on the road, you forgot how much you love driving at night; pure bliss. When you park in front of Wilma’s pub, there’s a middle-aged woman standing in the door with her hands on her hips. “Look what the cat dragged in! Well, come along then.”

“Sorry it took so long, I don’t live that close and I immediately jumped in the car after your call.” She turns around and sighs. You give her an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine, dear, I just can’t close up till everyone’s out.” She turns back around and you follow in her footsteps. “He’s right over there.” She points to Sweeney sitting on a bar stool, arms on the counter and his face resting on top of them. She assesses you quickly. “Do you need help getting him in your car or…?”

As much as you think you can carry him, there’s the fact he’s asleep and won’t be cooperating. “Can you chuck some water on him? Might wake him up enough to walk. I’ll pay for the water.”

“Oh sweetie, I don’t think you want to wake that one up like that, he’ll be mad as hell.”

“You know him well, then?”

“Know him? As far as a bartender knows their clientele…” She raises her eyebrows. “He’s not that bad y’know? He kind of protects my girls whenever there’s someone harassing them. Downside is, he breaks a lot of shit when he does that. But he always pays for the damage.” Things fall into place, maybe this was where he got his face busted when you first met him. He did say something about barmaids being harassed. “Most of the time he just sits here alone, minding his own business. Sometimes there’s a man with him who seems to write all the time. I’ve also seen him with that gay couple, with the one who never takes his sunglasses off. Didn’t know he had a girlfriend though, nice to meet you.”

“Oh, no, I’m just a friend.” A friend who rushes to pick him up, in the middle of the night, in her pajamas. That’s the kind of friend you want to be.

“Really? Huh, must’ve guessed wrong. Well, if you wanna try, I’ll pour some water on him. It’s on the house.” Nodding the go-ahead, you take a seat next to Sweeney; watching his drool drip on his jacket.

As soon as the water hits his face, he starts groaning. “For fucks sake, I will tear this place down, you bitch!” The woman backs up slowly.

By instinct, you know it’s bluff. You poke his leg to get him to look at you. “Awh Sweeney, don’t be an asshole. Now get up and let’s get you home.” Realization dawns on his face after a few seconds, causing his mouth to form a very cute ‘o’. “Cat got your tongue?”

Finally closing his mouth, he starts chuckling. “I’ll be damned, if it isn’t the lass sitting there!” Turning to the woman, he grins. “You called her, Wilma?” The woman—Wilma—nods at him. He seems more awake now and turns to you. “Ah well, best get on our way before she gets even angrier with me. Don’t wanna piss that one off, believe me!”

“About fucking time, I’m about to fall over. Go on, get out of here.”

Getting on his feet, he looks unsteady. You grab his waist and he immediately puts his arm around your shoulder. “Thank you, my darlin’. Cute pajamas.” Luckily, he doesn’t put a lot of weight on you. You’re strong but not _that_ strong.

“Oh, I know, they’re my favorite, actually. Now let’s get you in the car ‘cause I’m knackered and would like to get some more sleep.” The weight on your shoulder starts to feel heavier and he’s barely able to stand long enough to help him in the car. You wave at Wilma before getting in your seat. He’s already asleep. Take him to your place or his; yours is closer. The drive back feels a lot faster and every once in a while you check if he’s still sleeping. There seems to be the tiniest smile on his lips, must be a nice dream. You park in front of your house and poke his arm. You enjoy poking him, something about poking the bear comes to mind. It takes a few tries to wake him up. Staring groggily at you, he scoffs. “Alright, sleepy head, can you make it to the door?”

“Of fuckin’ course I can.” Mumbling to himself, he opens the car door and gets out; standing there as if he could fall over any second. You get out of the car and walk behind him. Leaning next to the door, he waits for you. “Told ya I could.”

Barely containing an eye roll, you open the door and motion for him to go inside. He walks slowly towards the living door and you hear him say something sounding a lot like _bollocks_. After closing and locking the door, you see him standing next to the couch. He probably won’t fit, might just work if he curls up. But that’s not the problem; Eos and Nox are already laying on the couch. “It’s okay, I’ll move them.”

“Nah lass, let ‘m be, I’ll sleep in your car if you don’t mind.” The temperature outside was rather cold, he’d be freezing after a while. You’ll need to buy a sofa bed if this will happen a lot.

“Are you fond of your balls? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure they’ll freeze right off out there.” You try to smile at him but instead you yawn. Too tired to think things through, you give him a second option. “Look, my bed’s big enough or you can take the car keys. I’m going to get some sleep, good night.” You leave him there to think about his options.

Before going to bed, you put some dry food out for your cats so they won’t wake you up and can stay in for once. You take your shoes off and go to your room to get under the covers. Laying on your side with sleep nearly taking over, you hear his footsteps. “You sure?”

“As long as you take your boots off, I’m sure, yeah.” You can hear items fall on the floor and then you feel the bed strain as he gets in.

The warmth emanates from him and he isn’t even touching you. Letting out a sigh, he turns towards you. “Sweet dreams, lass, and I thank ya.”

“Anytime, Sweeney, that’s what friends are for.”

 

* * *

 

Close to midday, you wake up. You don’t know who initiated it or if it’s something either of you did unconsciously but your back is against his chest and his arm is around your waist; his hand curled against your belly. A normal person would try to get out as quickly as possible… but you feel so safe. Laying as still as you can, you can feel him wake up after a couple of minutes. His breathing hot on your hair, he’s chuckling to himself. You turn around to look at him, hoping your eyes convey the trust you feel. “Fuck, it’s been eons since I slept that well.”

You hadn’t even thought about it but you slept well, too. Maybe it has something to do with being close to another person. Maybe it’s feeling safe. Maybe it’s just Sweeney. “Yeah, me too.” Neither moves to break apart and after a while he dozes off again. Friends can share a bed, who cares.

All you know is, should there be a next time this happens, you aren’t buying that sofa bed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading, you are all amazing!
> 
> Next chapter we will shortly see an angry Sweeney, though he means well!  
> We might even see him sharing some bits about his past...


	6. WOEFUL PORCH

After that night he slept over, it’s as if a bond was forged. A bond based on mutual trust. There have been no calls from bar owners to come pick him up since then. He told you he met with an old friend who talked too much about the past, causing him to go on a bender for a couple of days. There’s a silent agreement to not touch the subject that is his past.

As much as you love hanging out at home, there’s something amusing about going to a pub with Sweeney. The bartenders all know him by name, it doesn’t matter where you go. He drinks like a sailor, you don’t even try to keep up with him. It has happened quite a few times that neither noticed the closing call, so consumed in your conversation—much to the chagrin of some bar owners. Mostly Wilma.

He talks a lot about events in life depending on luck, like meeting you was the first bit of luck he had encountered in years. Sometimes he says something unusual, like how you must be an angel or a fairy to entrance a leprechaun like that. He calls himself a leprechaun—a lot. It’s the Irish thing, probably an inside joke or something. You don’t bother with it. Maybe it’s sort of like how friends have nicknames for each other?

There’s no awkwardness between you two, things just are the way they are. Not spending every day together, you both appreciate being on your own as well. Turns out he’s quite the movie freak; always bringing along DVDs to watch with you. He has the most smug expression whenever he brings one you haven’t seen yet. You tried getting him into Netflix, but he prefers his DVDs. Spending more and more time at your place, it’s like it’s his second home. He even helped repaint your living room.

Sometimes he falls asleep on your couch, sometimes he asks if he can sleep next to you. Sometimes you ask him.

 

* * *

 

Months have passed and with the day of your sister’s death approaching, you can feel yourself slipping away. Needing to be completely alone, you book a hotel in the next town. And a cat-sitter who’ll feed them twice a day, play with them and make sure their toilets are clean. You head out the next day and leave your phone at home, you wouldn’t need it anyway.

After three days in the hotel, you get back in the morning and there’s Sweeney, laying on your woeful porch. You can see him breathing, so you walk over to him and poke him in his leg. He wakes up angry, sees it’s you, gets up and immediately starts shouting. “Where were you?! I tried calling you!”

Letting out the breath you were holding, you are completely confused. “Wh- What’s going on? I just went to a hotel for a couple of days, did something happen to you?”

He’s scoffing like a child, you don’t understand why he’s so upset. “Did something fucking happen to me, you ask? I’ve been coming over here every fucking morning and every fucking evening for the past two days because you won’t answer your goddamn phone! And then that cunt of a neighbor tells me he hasn’t seen ya in a while! I thought you got in an accident or died somewhere, that’s what feckin’ happened to me!”

Tears in his eyes, you didn’t know he would react like this. Realizing your mouth had fallen open, you close it. “I do it every year. I can’t stand to be in my house with all her pictures around, not on the day she died, I just had to get away.”

By now you’re crying as well as he brings you closer to him, puts his arms around you and gently squeezes you. “I didn’t know, I couldn’t think straight at the thought of…” He kisses your hair and hugs you even closer. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. Next time I’ll give you a heads up, yeah?” Thankful for his arms around you, you can feel your breathing calm down.

“Just… promise me one thing. Never, ever fuckin’ leave me like that again, promise me?”

You finally put your arms around him as well, fully embracing him. Though his initial reaction scared you, the reason why is so overwhelmingly caring of him. “I promise.”

When you’ve both calmed down, he takes the keys from your hand and opens the door. “Three days in a hotel, what did ya do all day then? If you went shopping, I hope you brought me something!”

As you enter your house with Sweeney in tow, you answer him. “I spent all three days either sleeping or watching It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I’ll buy you something next time.”

“Next time, I’m coming with ya, watching tv and sleeping sounds like a grand way to get away from this wretched world.” Liking this idea already, you can’t help but smile at him. “What about Eos and Noxie, did ya leave them a tub filled with that stinking food?”

You tell him about the cat-sitter and you make a mental note to leave her a great review. Now that you’ve processed what just happened, you feel terrible. Your mind is still so accustomed to not having to let anyone know you’re going away, that it never crossed your mind to tell him about the hotel. Sometimes a whole week goes by without having seen each other, three days seemed nothing. Going by his reaction, it really shook him. While he’s looking in the fridge, you hug him from behind. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m such an idiot, can you forgive me?”

Putting his hands over your arms, you can feel the tension leave his body. “There’s nothing to forgive, lass. Now let me eat before I get _really_ grumpy.” Smiling against his back, you let go of him and unpack your bag.

 

* * *

 

During dinner that evening he’s talking about himself as a leprechaun, again. This time you just have to ask. “So, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you actually believe you are a leprechaun?”

“I know I’m not one.” Taking a few seconds to look at you, as if he’s measuring how much you can take, he sighs and continues. “It’s what they started calling me after the bloody church came and I played the part for a while.” Sadness seeps through his voice. “As time changes, what I’m called changes with it. Now I’m nothing more than a cartoon figure to them. Things have muddied over the centuries. Memories lost and regained only a few years ago. I used to be so much more, I used to be a king once.” He takes a swig from his glass of whiskey. “I was… no, _I still am_ a god.”

If he wasn’t so serious, you would think he’s playing a joke on you. Though you love a good fantasy tale, this can’t be true. If what he says is true, talking about centuries, he must be ancient. And a god? You’ve never been religious, you’ve never believed there was a god and now there’s one sitting in front of you? “Prove it.”

Pushing back his sleeves, he shows you his arms. “Open your hands.” Smiling deviously, Sweeney cups your hands together. “Watch closely.” Holding his hand above yours, gold coins start falling down. Rolling his hand around, you see there’s nowhere he could’ve hidden the coins. They keep falling down and down until your hands are so full, the coins clatter on the floor.

You can’t help but stare open-mouthed at the shiny coins everywhere. “Wh—what the fuck!” When you look up at his face, his eyes seem to be golden as well. _Holy fuck!! I’m friends with a god._ “Tell me everything.”

Food grown cold and drinks untouched, you listen to every single word as if you’re spellbound. He tells you his earliest name, Lugh, and all the others he can remember. The ever ongoing battle between the old and the new gods. How he came to be in America. How he could feel less and less people believe in him. Madness slowly taking over his mind and losing his luck, until he started remembering again. Dying at the hands of ‘a bald fucker who just had to get in the way’. How he came back from the dead, this time not like he had done countless times before. This time a dead woman named Laura helped him. The cost she paid to achieve it. How he left everyone and everything behind, his one chance at peace now they all thought he was dead. After a few years of wandering, he ran into one of the old gods, Mr. Ibis, who every once in a long while he meets up with. He also speaks about the human, Salim-not-Salim and his Jinn. He doesn’t care for the Jinn, but Salim kind of grew on him. All three of them promised to keep him being alive a secret. Though immensely interested in the other gods, you’d love to meet Salim someday.

You both cry and laugh at certain points in his story. He tells you he didn’t actually need your help with the cuts on his face, that day you first met. To be touched with kindness again was all he wanted, all he needed. Whenever you thought of him, he could feel a warmth spreading inside of him. It isn’t the same as someone believing in him but he welcomed it with open arms. “Please don’t tell me you know _what_ I was thinking?”

“Hah, what I wouldn’t give to know that! Think of all the leverage I could use.” Blowing out your breath, you can feel relief wash over you.

Well past morning now, there’s only one question left lingering on your mind. “So, uhm, does me knowing all of this have to change things? Like our friendship?”

“One thing has changed, hasn’t it? I can feel you believing in me already. But no, nothing else has to change, lass. I’m happy with the way things are. You?”

Going from a massive non-believer to believing in an Irish sun god in the span of a couple of hours. Him trusting you with his whole story. You take his hand and gently squeeze it. There’s really only one answer for you. “Yeah, I’m happy too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the support, you all are freaking amazing!
> 
> I incorporated some of Sweeney's history from 2x07.
> 
> Next chapter we may run into another character from American Gods...


	7. WINSLOW'S CANTINA

It’s been three years since you went home with a stranger and ended up getting the best friend you could have ever imagined. Knowing each other through and through, it’s gotten to the point where you see your life as before and after meeting Sweeney. Both of your lives have gotten better in every way. You even converse with your coworkers now.

Seven months ago, Sweeney moved in with you—officially. It was only a practical matter of moving some items, his ferns, his DVDs and selling his place; he was basically living with you for well over a year by then. The spare room you used as an oversized desk space was converted into his own bedroom. He insists on paying an excessive amount of rent which you reluctantly accepted after he said that he would never feel at ease otherwise. You told him if he ever needed the house to himself to have someone over, a text would suffice and you’d be out. He’s never used the option. Neither have you.

He encouraged you to check in on your mother. While you went to visit her for two weeks, he stayed home and took care of the cats. Though it was lovely to see her again, there’s just something unfixable between the two of you. You parted ways with her, this time promising each other to keep in touch.

There are rare nights where he cries out in his sleep, reliving the past. All you can do is hold him till it passes or till he wakes up. You try to comfort him as he tells you what he dreamt about. He told you that just being there with him is enough to cope with remembering.

It’s a warm-hearted friendship that’s healing past wounds. Though there have been…instances where you could swear there’s something more going on than just being friends. When you went swimming in a lake and you could feel his eyes roaming all over you; quickly going completely under in the ice-cold water so he wouldn’t see your crimson face. When he goes to the shops and brings your favorites, just because. That time you went to the cinema and an old lady said you looked like a sweet couple; to which Sweeney said he completely agreed with her. The way your heart fills with love when he talks to your cats with a baby voice. Or the times when you snuggle in front of the tv and all you want to do is stay like that forever. After all the sleeping next to each other, you should be used to him touching you. Yet every single time, your heart skips a few beats.

You tell yourself it’s because you’re both so content with the way things are; neither wants to risk changing anything.

 

* * *

 

Walking down the street, someone’s shouting. “Sweeney? Hey, Sweeney! Wait up, man!” Before you can turn around to see who it is, Sweeney’s already standing in front of you. Guarding you behind his frame.

“Bugger off, Moon Shadow. Don’t want nothin’ to do with ya.” Curiosity taking over, you squeeze Sweeney’s arm, feeling the tension in him. Moving next to him, you keep your hand on his arm, to let him know it’s ok.

A handsome, bald man in dark pants and white shirt looks at you quizzically. “Huh. Uhm, hello miss…?”

As soon as the man talks to you, Sweeney instantly puts his arm in front of you. “ _You_ don’t get to talk to her. Forget you ever saw us. Now, fuck off, Shadow.”

“Sw—Lugh, the past is the past, man.” _Lugh?_ So this person knows who Sweeney really is. He never spoke about someone named Shadow, though. “How it all went down… I’m so sorry for my part in it. I always had a feeling you were still around. Can we go get a drink or something? I’d really like to talk to you.” He must be ‘the bald fucker who got in the way’ and ended up killing Sweeney.

Shadow looks genuinely upset and you can feel the tension in Sweeney soften, so you decide to intervene. “We’d love to get a drink, wouldn’t we Sweeney?” Sweeney looks at you with defeat in his eyes. You stand on your toes to whisper in his ears. “Might be good for the both of you. When you want to leave, just tap my knee twice and I’ll fake getting an emergency text. Ok?”

Nodding lightly, he talks to Shadow without looking away from you. “Fine, Shadow. You’re paying for our drinks.” Sweeney starts walking, putting his arm around you. Ever protective.

Shadow catches up, now walking next to you. “Of course, uhm, does she know about… you know?”

Seeing the look on Sweeney’s face, it’s pretty obvious he doesn’t want to talk yet. “I’m guessing you’re the one that killed him with the spear? Don’t worry, you can speak freely around me.”

“Yeah. Ok.”

Walking past ‘Winslow’s Cantina’, Sweeney guides you inside; not checking if Shadow follows. You take a seat in a booth, with Sweeney pressing against you swiftly. You take a hold of his arm under the table, feeling the stress buzzing inside him. He gives you a small smile before turning to look at Shadow taking the seat across from him. Neither talks until someone comes to take an order. Whiskey for Sweeney, beer for Shadow and a cocktail for you. When your drinks have arrived, someone finally speaks up. “What the fuck did ya have to say then?”

Not wanting to disturb their conversation and giving them some kind of privacy, you take out your phone and read some online newspaper. Your cocktail tastes like shit, Sweeney having noticed the disgusted sound you made, switches your drinks. Keeping an ear open, should things turn nasty, you pick up a few things. Shadow speaks about the end of the war, his travelling and the gods he’s been keeping in touch with. Every once in a while, you feel Sweeney place his hand on your knee and you wait for him to tap out but he never does. When Shadow apologizes for killing him, Sweeney just shrugs. Finally feeling the mood become lighter, you decide to look up from your phone. “Oh lass, you should’ve seen me kicking this fucker’s ass, right before he put the spear in my chest, that is.”

“Actually, I’d pay to have seen Wednesday’s face when you made the spear disappear.” Causing both men to laugh, you raise your glass of whiskey and drink some.

You notice Shadow looking at the both of you. “It’s nice to see you happy with someone, Sweeney. Really, you deserve it.” Sweeney stiffens as Shadow turns to you. “I still didn’t catch your name, I’m guessing lass isn’t a name?”

Opening your mouth to say you’re not actually together and tell him your name, Sweeney interjects. “None of you fuckers will get her name, you hear me? This is as close as you’ll ever get to her.”

Surprised at this outburst, you decide to poke the bear in another way and look towards Shadow. “You can call me Eos.” Feeling Sweeney staring at you, you take a look at him while taking a sip from your drink. Amusement in his eyes at your defiance or maybe at the choice of your fake name.

“Like the goddess of dawn, right? Huh. Uh, nice to meet you, Eos.”

Sweeney turns his gaze towards Shadow and squints at him. “You better forget her name by the time we leave here, you understand me?”

“Look Sweeney, I didn’t mean anything by it, man, I’m not going to hurt her.”

“I know that but you know damn well what would happen if the other assholes learn I’m alive. They wouldn’t be able to resist messing with her to fuck me up. You’ve owed me a fucking debt since the second you killed me, I’m collecting it now. As far as ya know, I’m dead and she doesn’t exist.” Not wanting to further escalate the situation, you smile apologetically towards Shadow and turn back to your phone. Shadow agrees and they reach some sort of understanding. They quickly turn back to talking about the other gods, apparently Bilquis and Mr. Nancy have been quite tumultuous together. After a second round of drinks—iced tea instead of a cocktail this time—there seems to be starting a sort of camaraderie between them.

When Shadow excuses himself to go to the restroom, Sweeney turns to you and plays with your hair. “I didn’t know I needed talking to that little shit. I feel as if a huge part of my anger is shakin’ off of me.” Gazing deeply in your eyes, it feels as if you’re staring in each other’s souls. “I don’t know how to thank ya enough.” You can feel your cheeks turn red—quelle surprise—when he takes your hand in his and places a kiss on top of it. The spot where his lips touched your skin feels like it’s on fire, you can’t stop staring at it. “I’d be so fuckin’ lost without ya, love.” _Love? That’s new._ Before you can even think of a response, his hand is on your neck, pulling you closer and kissing you like it’s his last day on earth. Feeling him smile just before ending the kiss and leaning his forehead against yours, makes your heart almost burst out of your chest. “Fuck, should’ve done that years ago.”

Steadying your breathing, you can’t take your eyes away from his lips—his surprisingly soft lips. There’s always been a closeness between you two but it never went this direction before. _Why not?_ When your heart slows down at last, you kiss him softly on his bearded jaw. “Won’t this ruin our friendship? I… I don’t want to lose you.”

“Hah well, I’d like to see you try and get rid of me now!” Noticing the _not amused_ signs on your face, he continues. “Ah for feck’s sake, you’ve turned me into a soft egg.” He takes a big gulp from his whiskey. “Not sure you’ve noticed, love, but we’ve been more than just friends for a long while now.” The last comment causing you to meet his eyes, just in time to the see the most serious look you’ve ever seen on him.

Almost bursting with happiness, you’re close to giggling and hide your smile behind your hand. With Sweeney’s gaze fixated on you, you try your best to get your damn cheeks to stop blushing. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Shadow returning. “For the record, _love,_ you’ve always been a soft egg.” You wink quickly at Sweeney, causing him to burst out in laughter.

He can’t stop smiling, neither can you. Shadow resumes his seat, oblivious to what just occurred. In a very good mood, Sweeney directs his attention to Shadow. “Fuck, I’m gonna regret saying this but I forgive ya, Shadow Moon. You were a feckin’ idiot to get in my way but I’ll no longer hold it against ya.”

Shock and surprise written all over Shadow’s face. “Really? Those are words I thought I’d never hear coming from you. Not that I deserve them but thanks, man.”

“Yer just lucky she’s a fantastic influence on me or I’d long have bashed yer face in by now.”

Shadow looks at you with a genuine smile. “Then I guess I owe you both thanks.” You can nearly see the cogs behind his eyes working overtime at trying to figure this thing out between you and Sweeney. “You guys want to eat as well? My treat, of course.”

Glancing at his watch, Sweeney sighs and reluctantly answers. “That’ll be for another time, if we ever run into each other again. We’ve got somewhere to be.” As far as you know, there are no other plans. Just a lazy afternoon out in the city, going to whichever place is open. Followed by packing your bags and getting some early shut-eye so you can leave before the crack of dawn on a trip.

Only option is to play along; so you take a hold of Sweeney’s arm to look at his watch as well. “Yeah, sorry. We’re already late, actually.” Detecting a hint of sadness in Shadow’s dark eyes, you feel kind of bad, maybe he just wants company.

“No problem, it was… interesting meeting you both. And no worries, your secret’s safe with me.” As Sweeney gets out of the booth, he shakes Shadow’s hand. You say a quick goodbye to Shadow while you get out as well. Walking towards the door, he is so close behind you. Feeling his fingers caress your back causes your heart to jackhammer against your ribs.

When you walk around the corner of the street, he pushes you against a wall and kisses you again till you’re both gasping for air. With his hands burrowed in your hair and you grasping his shirt, it takes a while before you’re able to speak. “So, that’s what you were rushing of to, eh?”

“Hell yeah.” You move on to planting soft kisses on his neck, feeling him shudder underneath your touch. “Loved your mighty fine playing along, too.”

You cup his face in your hand and look in his beautiful eyes. “Well, I did feel a tiny bit sad for Shadow, he seemed kind of lonely in some way.”

“Ach, he’ll be just fine. Look, I’ll admit it was somewhat worthwhile talking to him but fucking hell! That guy talks way too much! All I could think about the entire time was how I wished I was at home. Just us and our gremlins. That’s all I need.” With him kissing your cheekbone, you wrap your arms around his waist. “Now, let’s get something to eat without that little shit and then go back to our home.” _Our home._

After dinner, on the way back home, Sweeney never stopped touching you. Whether walking or in the car, he touches your arm, your hand or your thigh—it’s as if he has to make sure you’re still there. Not that you mind it, you don’t mind it one fucking bit.

 

* * *

 

When you get home, you both spend about an hour packing your bags. Being quite tired from a large dinner and the packing, you both fall asleep immediately after laying down. This year, instead of going to a hotel, Sweeney had suggested hiking and camping in a forest.

At three in the morning, the alarm goes off and you awake groggily. Sweeney, not too pleased at the early rise—though his idea—is cursing like a sailor. Kissing him abruptly is a fun way to shut him up. When he tries to grab you for another kiss, you push him back down. “Hurry up, slacker.” Laughing at his grumbling, you put on the outfit you’d laid out before going to bed.

After you're both dressed and have eaten something, it’s a relative short drive out of the city. The entire way, you both just listen to the radio and give each other warm smiles. Parking your car near the edge of the fog-enveloped forest, you put on your backpack and turn around to see Sweeney grinning at you. “You ready, love?”

“Yeah.” Clicking on your flashlight, you point it at him. “Do try to keep up, old man.” His heart-warming laughter is one of the most beautiful sounds. As it turns out, the hike is really relaxing. Accompanied with the sounds of the forest, you both walk at a leisurely pace in complete silence. There’s no need to talk. Not following a map, you have complete faith in him knowing his way. When the morning light filters through the trees, you stand next to each other—hands intertwined—and enjoy the sunny warmth. Standing with his eyes closed, you remember something about his past. “Shining One, indeed.” Keeping his eyes closed, you see a marvelous smile appear.

After hiking for a couple more hours, you’re starting to feel the strain of the backpack. Having noticed your fidgeting with the straps, he reassures you. “Just a couple more minutes now, almost there.” Nodding towards him, you do your best to keep going. You hear water splashing on rocks before you see it, a small clearing next to a wide stream. “Worth it?”

Feeling his gaze upon you as you take in your surroundings, you put your bag down and turn to him. “Worth it.” As he puts his bag down, he walks towards you. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he pulls you closer and kisses your forehead. “Definitely worth it, Sweeney.” Smiling against his chest, you stand there for a little while until his stomach starts growling. “You wanna eat before or after we set the tent up?”

“After, let’s get that out of the way.” Having bought a rather large tent—no other option with someone as tall as Sweeney—it takes quite a long time to install it. When it’s finished, you’re both ravenous and quickly devour some of the food you brought along.

Moving towards the stream to wash your hands, he remains seated and watches you. Enjoying the freshness, you take of your shoes and plant your feet in the water. Looking back at him, he seems engrossed in thoughts or memories. Deciding to let him be, you wade around, trying not to disturb the fish too much. The sound you’re hearing doesn’t register at first, until you realize it’s Sweeney. Singing softly. You don’t understand the words, it must be some ancient language. The sadness resonates deep within your soul. When he finishes, you finally look towards him and see tears glistening his eyes. Putting your shoes back on, you walk slowly towards him. He’s still somewhere else. Sitting behind him, you wrap your arms around his torso. Melting in your embrace, he interlaces his fingers with yours and weeps silently. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

When he calms down after what must be a quarter of an hour, he sighs and kisses your hands. “Thanks, love.” Planting a kiss between his shoulder blades, you can feel him relax. “Got lost there for a while.”

Feeling a few raindrops fall down, you kiss his back again. “Welcome back, my Shining One.”

Chuckling in your arms, he turns around to face you. “I like it when you call me that.”

“Oh, is that right, my Shining One? Shall I keep calling you that, my Shining One?” His eye rolling is making you grin from ear to ear. The rain is starting to get more intense. “You know, my Shining One, we should probably get out of the rain. Wouldn’t want to catch a pneumonia, would we?” Taking initiative, you sit upright on your knees and move even closer between his legs. Seizing his chin in your hand, you place a soft kiss on his nose and one on his cheekbone. Understanding and lust eminent in the both of you, he scoops you up like it’s nothing.

You made love to each other for the first time inside the tent, with the rain pouring down on it.

Laying next to each other like you so often had. Everything so familiar yet completely exhilarating. Listening to the rain, limbs entangled and sweat running down your backs. Those beautiful hazel eyes filled with nothing but genuine love. Both smiling like idiots. Twirling his fingers around your hair he seems to be mulling something over. “What are you thinking about?”

“Remember when we first met?” Seeing the laughing lines appear around his eyes makes him even more charming. “I’m so glad you didn’t kick me in the balls and bolted.“

Compared to that day, you realize how much you’ve grown in more ways than one. He brings out the best in you. You hope you do the same for him. “Well, I’m glad I was a complete fool who went to a stranger’s home.”

“Oh aye, a fool you were!” Slapping him softly on his chest, he grabs your hand and kisses your palm. “But you’re my fool now.”

This magnificent, unbreakable bond between you two, grew deeper each day. Just two beings who used to be quite broken until some lucky twist of fate brought them together. Both not healed completely—yet at each other’s side, that doesn’t matter. Going from total strangers to friends to housemates to lovers. You wouldn’t change any of it. “And you’re mine.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this story, I hope you found it enjoyable!


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